October 23, 2003

I'd Like Some Breasts To Go Please?

I took what my noble readers said in their comments to heart and I dressed to the nines for the presentation. I had burnt up my MasterCard at Banana Republic earlier this week, and was wearing my new black kilt and a wrap-around white shirt. Complete with black pantyhose and a killer pair of Mary Jane high heels, and I felt like one tough cookie.

I paired the outfit with the brand-new white demi bra that I bought at Victoria’s Secret. I don’t wear white underwear, actually, but since my choices for a bra were a red one, a hot pink one, and a black one with silver lace, I decided maybe now is the time to invest in one. Now, for those of you not familiar with a demi-bra, I can tell you this much: it is a low cup, and supports about the bottom one-third of your breast. It is extremely cute and chick-ish. I have been wearing said perfect bras for the past 11 years, since I had a breast reduction.

That’s right. I had those babies taken off. I was a 38 DD, and I hated every minute of it. Not only did my back and shoulders ache, but my chest proceeded me into the room by a few steps. A life-changing experience: one evening I was sitting up in bed reading a book, naked. My cat jumped on the bed and I turned to pet him. Since I was topless, my breasts reached out and hit the cat and knocked him clear off the bed.

My humiliation was replete.

I booked an appointment with a plastic surgeon the very next day, and one month later, I was a 34 B. Since I paid so much for my breasts and suffered a great deal, I have been extremely proud of my breasts. And when people ask me about them, I tell them that I think my breasts are “fucking perfect”. So I make sure and canvas those babies in cute bras, the little demi ones that I had dreamt about when I was Big Boob Helen.

So I had my presentation to the sales teams today in Dallas. I was, as always, the only woman in the room. Working in engineering, that tends to be the case.

Not that I mind those odds, of course.

So I dressed up, including my new demi bra, and had my presentation today.

I have to say, my confidence was really rocked earlier this week, from the comments my friend had made to me. So I started about the presentation nervously. This is unusual for me, since one of the compliments I hold highest is that people tell me I give great presentations-I use humor, I am lively, and I (usually!) know what I am talking about.

I started the presentation to the team of guys as we sat around a large table, the projector picking up my PowerPoint slides. They looked moderately interested, and I started to warm up. I cracked a few jokes. They laughed. We progressed.

The work I am doing is tough. I mean, selling pink duct-taped hamsters is no picnic. So we have to delve pretty deeply into the material. What type of hamster, what color of hamster, how thick the tape is, etc. We have to get into the meat of this.

I stood up and walked to the screen for this part. This was the tough part, the part the men needed to sell. They sat up as I went through the bulleted slides, their eyes on me, their attention great. I was talking quickly now, and they weren’t even taking notes as we discussed out hamsters. It was flawless.

At the end of the presentation, I sat back down, feeling good. The men made plans to book trips to Sweden soon. I was pressed to ensure I would be a part of the meetings, and promised a dinner on the town with them. I felt great. My presentation kicked a clown’s ass. I had visions of masses of orders coming in from their customer, Company X needing masses of duct taped hamsters, perhaps even running out of hamsters and resorting to gerbils. I could have single-handedly saved the company with my sales presentation. I surely would not be made redundant next month. After all, I sold the system. Maybe I could even get a ticker-tape parade…

And then, once the men filed out, my co-worker George stood up to raise up the slide screen. As he stood in front of the projector beam, I saw that it shone right through his white shirt, and I saw his scraggly, un-Muppet-furry body and two peach colored nipples.

I stood up quickly in front of the projector light to check, and confirmed it. When I had stood up, the projector had gone right through my white wrap-around shirt, highlighting two-thirds of the top of my rounded, globe-perfect breasts. The men likely hadn’t heard a word I said, the system was possibly going nowhere.

They were looking at my breasts.

I am such an idiot. Now that half of Sweden saw my thong, and half of Dallas saw my breasts, I can only guess what the next bits of me are that will be exposed.


Posted by Everydaystranger at October 23, 2003 08:24 AM | TrackBack

Did your self proclaimed "fucking perfect breasts" make an appearance at this past years blogger boobie-thon? I know Sassy represented strong.

Posted by: Skip at November 5, 2003 03:08 PM

I thought maybe there would be a picture.

Posted by: Dave at October 29, 2003 12:46 AM

Fixed! Now you should be able to see my thong.

Posted by: Helen at October 28, 2003 08:26 PM

The link to your thong does not work.

Posted by: Dave at October 26, 2003 09:00 PM

and yes you'll have to register if you've never been...

Posted by: pylorns at October 24, 2003 07:49 PM

Since were talking about brests.. there is a link to a news article about how BJ's decrease breast cancer :)


Posted by: pylorns at October 24, 2003 04:47 PM

Kicked the coffee habit reading your blog but find myself feeling a urge to smoke after reading your blog. Good Work :)


Posted by: Drew at October 24, 2003 02:57 PM

Funny cat story. I haven't had quite that experience, but incidents certainly somewhat similar... involving feline pets taking the brunt of untethered chest appendages. haha. Though I would NOT have a breast reduction, most particularly because I hate anything medical and only have had surgery to save my life, and then again to save my life as I know it... I, personally would not have surgery for any other reason... But I've definitely thought, in the past, how nice the bras are that are made for people of more average size breasts. These days I'm fairly comfortable with my body as it is, but I often wonder why someone would get their breasts enlarged so they have to wear even more restraining bras than I must!
But I truly wonder... couldn't there be a way for them to make nice bras for larger sizes? I've always assumed it had more to do with marketing than engineering... in that I've noticed that plus size clothing always seems to be more gaudy than the regular department clothing in most stores.

Posted by: Chloe at October 24, 2003 11:09 AM


Posted by: at October 24, 2003 08:22 AM

And something for those who don't really know what that all-knowing smile looks like:

Or maybe it doesn't. Just observe how stupid she looks. Haha.

Posted by: Jamie at October 24, 2003 08:22 AM

As I was reading this and neared the end of the post, I got that all-knowing smile you get when you can cleverly guess the end of a joke and no one else around you can. Not only did I *feel* the smile, but it was seen. And curious people came and asked of me what I was smiling all-knowingly at. They said, "I am curious, what is it that you're smiling all-knowingly at?"

And to them, I said:
"Bahaha! Don't you see, you fools? DON'T YOU SEE?! They could all see her BREASTS! Yes, HER BREASTS!"

While they looked upon me with bewilderment and perhaps, just perhaps, awe, I ran quickly from the room to attend to matters elsewhere! The end.

..uh.. Good luck with the orders.

Posted by: Jamie at October 24, 2003 08:18 AM

Thats done it. I've decided to get a breast reduction at age 30. I'm a 40B and I SO hate it.

Posted by: Melodrama at October 24, 2003 08:16 AM

visiting this site gets better everytime :)

thanks for the "uplifting" story.

Posted by: jcrue at October 24, 2003 01:14 AM

so tell me more of this nipple popping...

Posted by: pylorns at October 23, 2003 11:47 PM

I can't help but think people will start chanting "We want minge!!" any minute now.

I had a good laugh at your cat-knockers. I've got nice tatas, but I've never knocked a cat off my bed with 'em. (Then again, you had a cup and two inches on me.) My ass, however--yeah, you could serve Thanksgiving dinner on this ghetto bootie. (do they do ass reductions?)

Posted by: Sassy McSmartpants at October 23, 2003 10:25 PM

You know, I like to think my life is interesting, but then I read stuff like this and I think, no.

Posted by: Don W. at October 23, 2003 08:22 PM

I agree with Suz -- you probably did save the company and will get your tickertape parade after all.

I love the way demi cup bras look, but can't wear them because my nipples are too big and stick out of the tops of them, which irritates me.

Posted by: Jennifer at October 23, 2003 08:07 PM

Demi bras save my life. I went from a C to a B due to weight loss - and though I miss the boobage, demis make 'em look soooo good.

Posted by: Kaetchen at October 23, 2003 07:13 PM

Au Contraire, dear Helen.

I, too, work in engineering (as I type this I am the only woman in the office). It has been my experience that if you're beautiful and you don't intentionally flaunt it, and if you most definately don't sleep around, men will follow you like puppy dogs. You have quite possibly saved the company with your presentation! Just think about it. They will forever get a raging woody when they think of pink duct taped hamsters...

Posted by: Suz~ at October 23, 2003 06:25 PM
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